A lot of times I think it would be easier to make jokes if I was some kind of minority. But as a white person, I feel like my source material is limited.

Like when I want to tell a joke about white people committing crimes, I'm limited to serial killings and CEO's embezzling money, which really isn't all that funny. But then the show "Cops" comes on and reminds me that white people do commit normal crimes, and thank god for that.

But I think white people commit crimes out of the fact that white people are bat shit insane. I had a friend rationalize throwing a brick through a window because he was leaving for Saudi Arabia. An acquaintance of mine drove his car into a house when he was drunk, then tried to back out and drive away like nothing happened.

But I wonder why white people are so crazy in general. I think it's because of the suburbs.

Magical things happens in middle class suburbs. It's like you have the money to do things, but there is never anything to spend your money on because it‘s the suburbs, so you find yourself with a bottle of whiskey and golf clubs hitting golf balls at a Taco Bell that's 500 yards away. And then you break someone's house window. Now you have something to spend your money on. Not a new window or anything, just a new set of golf clubs because of course my slice to the right is solely my clubs fault and not my own.

When I moved out of the suburbs into a college town, there were things to do. Even though I had been reaching levels of alcoholism I thought were never possible, I could never really be as crazy as I was in the ‘burbs because when walking home through the ghetto you have to avoid both getting mugged and getting picked up by the cops for public intox. It's a lose-lose situation when your school is less than five minutes away from the most dangerous street in America.

But now that I have the pleasures of living back in the suburbs, I'm back to having cash and nothing to spend it on. I think I can officially blame my criminal behavior on boredom and rows upon rows of identical red brick houses. I would spend all my time at bars but I retired from the drunk driving game with a perfect record, the closest bar is a half an hour walk, and fuck that. If they built an everlasting carnival a block away from my house that was open 24 hours and served Milwaukee's Best Light, I would be in heaven and not hitting golf balls down long stretches of streets.


Song of the Day: Gasoline Kisses for Everyone by Park. It can be found on the It Won't Snow Where You're Going Album.